


The Mind Can Make Heaven of Hell

by Rubydoll



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubydoll/pseuds/Rubydoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin. According to the FAQs Carlos does his own voice. What if some of the other residents of Night Vale were really actors?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the events up to and including episode 30, "Dana", in mind. Will likely deviate from canon beyond that.

_He likes you_ , they told me, _play along_. I said I didn't want to, that it wasn't fair, but they just shrugged and pointed out that it would be a mere drop in the ocean. And then they reminded me I could always be replaced.

So while I didn't discourage him, I didn't lead him on either. He seemed to like my hair so I got it cut short. Maybe I thought that would put him off. Instead he cursed the barber, who got written out of the storyline shortly after, which was probably my fault. It was a warning. After that I did as I was told. I called him when I was instructed to, and acted out the little drama they'd scripted. When I had to arrange to meet him I tried to make it clear it was not a personal engagement. But that didn't stop him considering it a date.

I put him straight by being as professional as I could. Cecil hid his disappointment, falling back into that almost eerie cheerfulness he so often adopted. He gave me the numbers I asked for then looked shy and told me he was very into science these days and if I needed anything else I just had to ask. I thanked him and he shook his head and smiled and said that it was no trouble, that he _wanted_ to help me. No, he wanted to help _Night Vale_. He tripped over the doorstep as he left because he was looking at me instead of where he was going but I pretended I didn't see so he wouldn't be embarrassed.

That was when I considered quitting. I didn't agree with what they were doing - it had seemed like such a great opportunity but I had not imagined the full scale of the experiment. Even if it were purely for science and not entertainment, it just wasn't right. But I realised that even if I left they'd simply replace me. And what if they found someone who was willing to pretend? Who would lap up his adoration and exploit it?

I didn't want that to happen. I didn't want Cecil to get hurt.

When they decided to kill off the Apache Tracker they called me in for a meeting. They'd already recast him once but it still wasn't working out. The new guy had a good agent though who'd wrangled a heroic exit for him. And they'd come up with an angle they wanted to play out. I agreed to do it because, well, what choice did I have?

Cecil broke down live on the radio. He didn't even see what the viewers at home were shown, all he was given were written reports but that was enough. Countless times he'd announced the demise of the latest intern without losing his calm, so many horrors he'd described without his voice even cracking. But the news of my apparent death was too much. I knew they were watching me as I listened, off-camera, as he struggled to read the words he had been handed before cutting to a commercial, so I was careful not to react. If I showed any sign of growing attached to him I would be pulled. They didn't let the interns stay around him for long, just in case, but I was a scientist, they believed I would not let my feelings cause me to do something stupid.

I was instructed to contact him. And the truth is I really did want to. When I told him that I just wanted to see him, after all that had happened, he looked so happy. I wanted that moment to be real and, briefly, as I rested my hand on his knee and he leaned his head on my shoulder, it was. I'd seen him as an experiment, a freak and that was what he was, but he did not know that. The horrors of the town left no mark on him, he remained innocent, and pure. As we stared up at the lights above the Arby's I ignored the void beyond and focused on the beauty of the sky, on the gentle weight of his head on my shoulder, the pleasant warmth of his arm against mine.

Later they would praise my performance. But I wasn't an actor, I was a scientist. What they saw I could not fake. Against my better judgment, against all reason, I had grown to care for him.

Once I'd been given authorisation, we arranged our first date. He took my arm as we walked, and I'd never known anyone look so proud and so happy to be with me. I was hoping they'd let us enjoy some normal food but as I cut into my mushroom it seeped a red fluid which resembled blood. I knew it was fake, just tomato juice, but it still put me off. I could barely force myself to eat it.

"I've been thinking," I said. But then I stopped myself. I was going to suggest we take a little trip, just to see if they would go for it, if they'd write in a holiday. But that would probably run above budget, I hadn't been given the go-ahead to pitch the idea and the concept of leaving the town was a dangerous one to bring up. But I had his full attention.

"Uh huh?" he smiled at me, eyes wide and expectant. It always amazed me how someone who talked for a living could so completely lose the use of words.

"Yeah, that's what I've been doing lately," I said lamely. "Thinking. It's part of being a scientist. What have you been up to?"

His smile widened and he began to talk, his speech peppered with "like" and "you know", so unlike the official voice of Night Vale. Despite the weirdness of the rest of the date - breaking out of the restaurant through a window, the backdrop of screaming citizens - he seemed oddly normal. I suggested we do some experiments on the trees because, honestly, it had been so long since I'd been out with someone it was all I could come up with. If he was bored, he didn't show it, but he did brush my cheek and I pretended not to notice. I knew we were safe but the buzzing shadow people still made me uneasy.

He drove me home and there was an awkward pause as we arrived outside my lab. I told him that I should probably go do some experiments, try to save the town, do the things he thought I did. He offered to help but I declined. That hadn't been written into the date.

Nor was it scripted that I should kiss him. But I did. Not because he looked so disappointed that I didn't invite him up, but because I wanted to. I hated that I was doing what they had intended me to do but the kiss wasn't a lie. I got out of the car and went into the lab feeling a warmth inside that I had never experienced before. But still I let nothing show.

The date was met with approval and I was encouraged to continue. I carried on my experiments and wrote my reports but they were no longer all that filled my days. Being with Cecil made me happy though I maintained my cool facade. I knew what I was feeling was dangerous; I was falling for him. And that made me hate even more what they were doing to him.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Carlos gets closer to Cecil he learns the truth about Cecil's memories of Europe.

\---

"Have you ever seen The Truman Show?"

We were lying on the couch, my arms around him, his fingers linked with mine. He shook his head. His thumb was bandaged up.

"How about Cabin in the Woods?"

"No," he pulled my arms tighter across his chest. "Carlos, do you think intern Dana will be okay?"

I sighed. Of course she'd be okay. Jasika's connections and talent meant that Dana had got her own storyline instead of being killed off like every other intern. "She made it out of the Dog Park so if there's a way for her to get back here she'll find it."

"Mm. I guess you're right."

I hated him being so sad. He'd spoken to intern Dana's onscreen mom earlier and that had twisted the knife. Normally losing an intern did not seem to affect him too deeply but I feared his attachment to me was making him dare to care for others too. Or maybe he was developing an empathy which most who had adapted to survive in this environment lacked. Or maybe he'd just never let his feelings show before.

I pressed a kiss to his temple, then his ear lobe, then his cheek. He turned his head so I could kiss his lips. With a gentle moan, he shifted, rolling over on top of me, getting comfortable. I slid my hands over his back, getting under his tunic. His eyes closed in bliss when the kiss deepened and with each gentle parting he peeked under his eyelashes as though checking he wasn't dreaming. As he sat up to let me pull his tunic off my cell began to ring.

"Do you need to get that?" he asked, his heart clearly sinking. He crossed his arms over his bare chest as though the call were an actual intrusion and he was aware of being half naked.

Whatever words they would use I knew what the message would be. Letting the tunic drop, I picked up my phone from the coffee table and glanced at the display. I pressed "ignore".

"It's nothing that can't wait," I said. I turned the cell off and placed it aside.

"You sure?"

I pulled him down, letting my lips brush his before I answered. "I'm sure. It's fine."

He smiled. His skin was marked with scars, some in the shape of strange symbols that I expected even he would not be able to explain. But he was beautiful to me. Each one was a nightmare he had come through and still remained Cecil. As I shifted to get on top, he wriggled to let me, his fingers unfastening the buttons of my shirt. He was less than halfway down before I dragged it off over my head. He pulled me closer, kissing my chest, working up to my neck, his foot rubbing the back of my leg.

"You wanna move to the bedroom?" I asked as he reached my jaw.

His smile widened. "Uh huh!"

I don't know how many were watching us. The mainstream broadcast would likely have been pulled as soon as the phone rang, if not before, but the staff would still be observing. I didn't care. Let them. Let them sit in their cubicles and spy. For me it was something real. As a scientist I knew all about the biology of sex, which hormones induce which sensations in the brain, but it did not feel like a simple chemical reaction. I felt a connection to him, his every touch was so much more intense than anything I had ever known. He was gentle but never passive, playful without teasing. He explored every part of me but nowhere more than my hair. His fingertips against my scalp, pressing, rubbing in circles, were bliss. His voice as he gasped my name, the way he smiled as he looked into my eyes, the warmth of his breath as he kissed trails over my skin - everything seemed so vivid, as though I had only ever been half-awake before. He cried out that he loved me but I allowed myself no words, fearing what I might reveal.

Later as he lay upon my chest, gazing up at me, there was adoration in his eyes. I held him tightly, wishing the moment would never have to end.

"I haven't found a single thing about you that isn't perfect," he told me.

"I'm not perfect, Cecil."

"Even your level of modesty is perfect."

"It's not modesty, I'm far from perfect," I said, then I sighed. "Nobody is perfect, Cecil."

"My perception of you is that you're perfect," he said dreamily, rubbing his cheek against my chest. "And my perception defines my reality so in the reality that I inhabit you are, in fact, perfect."

I gave up trying to argue and instead just stroked his face. He was right; to him I was perfect. Because he did not know that I was a liar and a fake. But since his whole world was a lie and fake did that make me more real? I wanted to be.

Of course I got in trouble. They called me in and I maintained my best poker face as they lectured me and asked if I had even thought to check the real time. This happened before the watershed. _Luckily_ they were able to cut to something else, they said. _Luckily you didn't trigger anything_.

Now that, I didn't understand. So they showed me the footage of an experiment they did on Cecil before he was chosen to be a featured citizen. He looked so young. I watched with a hand over my mouth. What I saw was more horrifying than anything I'd seen in Night Vale.

"He doesn't remember any of this?" I asked after a moment.

"He was kept very heavily drugged but he does have some recollection. An intoxicating fragrance, a tussle, then falling. And pain. His mind has pieced together the fragmented memories in a way that makes them pleasant to recall. But you could have destroyed that."

I watched Cecil on the screen, hugging his knees to his chest as he giggled hysterically, tears staining his face. _Oh we laughed and laughed_. I had to turn away as his _travel companion_ took him by the hand and pulled him to his feet, mocking him with a low chuckle.

"Why wasn't I told?" I asked.

"If you had known you would have acted differently around him. We did not intend the situation to get this far. The plan was to kill Carlos the scientist off for real. So we're going to bring that scenario forward."

"No!" my outburst startled them. I got myself back under control though my heart felt as if it would beat through my chest. "No, I mean, that will be really cheap, it's been done before. The audience will feel cheated."

"They'll get bored if we keep you on. The relationship has peaked, there's nothing new you can do with it now."

"Bring in a rival!" I said trying to hide my desperation. "Another scientist, someone from my past, an ex - wouldn't it be interesting to see how he copes with jealousy? The love triangle is a classic and much more entertaining than him moping over a dead lover."

They seemed to buy it. They began whispering amongst themselves. I had to make them believe I was merely trying to keep my job, that I didn't care about Cecil. I needed time. And I needed to be allowed back into Night Vale.

"We can't have any more mistakes," they told me. "So we're going to show you everything."

After the "Svitz" experiment, "Franchia" was almost a relief. Cecil was trapped alone in an endless maze. At first he took photographs and called out an occasional optimistic "hello?" but as the isolation started to set in he began talking, sometimes consoling himself; "now, Cecil, very few people are fortunate enough to visit this beautiful country so make the most of this experience." and sometimes narrating his actions; "And as he approaches the fabled arch reputed to grant wishes he pauses to admire its splendour. Then, as is customary, he kneels and licks the carved stone...ugh...pft...which tastes disgusting. And then he says the words; there's no place like home! And he waits...he waits...but nothing happens. Nothing."

"Haven't I seen enough?" I didn't want to watch any more. Even though I knew it had already happened, that there was nothing I could do, it pained me to see Cecil so lonely and scared.

"It gets interesting after the beast is released. He actually got out, you know. We chip the dangerous ones to make sure they don't get loose, but he hardly qualifies so when someone screwed up, he was able to just stumble out of the environment and get on a bus. Even made it to a nearby village where he made the locals crap themselves. But we picked him up shortly after, no harm done."

I watched as Cecil was chased through the maze by a creature he never saw until, terrified and exhausted, he passed through an arch and vanished from the screen, his pursuer hitting an invisible wall and collapsing, twitching, to the ground. I felt a strange swell of pride. Gentle Cecil, who claimed violence was never the answer, had survived. They had forced him to play their game and he had won, even if only by blind luck. Perhaps they underestimated him. I hoped so. I was going to need his help if I were to save him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is determined to save Cecil. But a visitor to the station changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has taken longer to write than I planned, and hasn't gone exactly to plan either! But I thought I'd better finish it because it seems things are progressing in the radio show!

I went to the radio station and waited for Cecil to finish his show. The intern, whose name I didn't bother to remember, said I could sit outside the booth. I didn't really want to, because I knew it would be very distracting for Cecil and he might try to interview me again, but I was bustled in. Cecil waved at me gleefully, grinning so much that the rather grim traffic report developed an oddly cheery tone. He wrapped it up quicky and switched to a pre-recorded word from their sponsors.

"We have 75 seconds!" he said, admiring me as though I were wearing a brand new tuxedo rather than the same shabby lab coat I usually wore. His expression suddenly turned serious. "Is something wrong? Do you need me to do an announcement or a declaration or something?"

"No, I'm just here to see you. I thought we could go somewhere after your show, if it's not too late for you?"

"It's never too late for a date with my perfect Carlos," he smiled. "Where do you want to go?"

"I thought we could drive out and have a midnight picnic. Just the two of us."

"That sounds perfect!" he said, "Oh! Nearly out of time!"

He hurried back into the booth, swinging happily in his chair until he was back live.

"Guess who just turned up at the station, listeners. Carlos!!! He's here to take me out on a surprise date after the show - isn't that just so sweet of him? Lovely Carlos. I am so blessed to have him in my life. Maybe one day he'll agree to do an interview with me. Wouldn't that be amazing? He's shaking his head at me through the glass. Come on, it'll be fun! Oh now he's looking towards Station Management's door. I'd better read some news."

After the report, he set some music playing and stepped out again, buzzing with excitement.

"I don't get how that's the weather," I said in a cool tone, trying to calm him down.

"We're a news station, we have to report the weather," Cecil said. "But our fine community is in the middle of the desert - every day I would be saying 'today, dear listeners, it is going to be hot, _hot, HOT!_ ' " With every "hot" he moved closer until he was in kissing distance. "And they'll think I'm talking about you."

"You talk about me too much," I said. "You'll get in trouble. Wait, You don't tell them _everything_ , do you?"

"Nooo," he said playfully, looking away. "But I am a reporter, it is in my very nature to report."

His gaze was flicking between my eyes and my lips. He wanted me to kiss him but the intern was doing something nearby and I felt awkward. I pressed a brief peck to the tip of his nose.

"You'd better get back in there and report. Real news - don't talk about me."

"Spoilsport," his fingers traced along my arm as he backed away. "Celebrity gossip is part of the news!"

I found a plastic chair to sit on while he wrapped up the show. As he talked, I remembered my first nights in Night Vale, working late with the radio on. I hadn't been quite prepared for what life in Night Vale would be like. I thought, somehow, that knowing that it wasn't real would make it easier. But the truth was, for those living in the environment, it _was_ real. And my work there, as a scientist, was real too. The creators had meddled with things they did not understand, things that should not be messed with and although they had discovered a way to contain the horrors, they had little control over their creation. The town had developed organically, beyond their design; they had lost the reins a long time ago and now all they could do was try to direct events the best they could. And study them.

Cecil and his radio show was at first a valuable resource. He had connections and his reports on events were as sane as could be expected. His instant attraction to me was unsettling but I'd come to realise he was harmless and that he genuinely cared about Night Vale and its citizens. He genuinely cared about me. He was real, and his feelings were real and they had no right to exploit him. I would tell him the truth, and then..

...Then what? Would I rescue him from Night Vale? No, he wouldn't leave, not even if I asked him to. Even if I could do that. He deserved the truth but in order to save him, I would have to save Night Vale. And I had no idea how I would do it.

He wished his listeners goodnight, smiling happily though that faded when he saw the expression on my face.

"You look worried," he told me. "No...concerned...Is everything all right?"

I didn't answer, I just pulled him close. I wanted to tell him everything, but more than anything I wanted to tell him that I loved him. But I had to make sure we were somewhere private.

"Cecil? There's someone here to see you."

"Hmm?"

As the intern moved aside, a man stepped forward. He was holding a small bouquet of white and pink tulips, "Cecil, I just wanted-"

"Steve Carlsberg," Cecil cut him off, saying the name as though it were bitter in his mouth. "Here to deliver your latest crackpot theory in person, are you? Well I've got a crazy idea for you; if you think there's so much wrong with Night Vale, why don't you just leave? I'm sure Desert Bluffs would be very happy to have you."

He was holding onto my arm, quite tightly. I'd never seen him so hostile toward anyone.

"I know I've been a jerk," Steve seemed to be using the flowers as a shield. "Faxing the station so you'd have to read my letters, volunteering at the PTA - I was...I guess I was just trying to get your attention. And that was wrong, I didn't know how to handle things. But I want to fix this, Cecil, and I wondered if-"

"You really are unbelievable!" pulling me along with him, Cecil pushed past Steve. "If you'll excuse us, Carlos and I are going on a date!"

Cecil did not stop until we reached my car and I did not dare speak. Once we turned onto the main road he started talking.

"Can you believe him? What a jerk! I mean, doesn't he listen to my show? Surely he's got the picture! But no, he's too wrapped up in himself and his stupid conspiracy theories to look at what's going on in the rest of the town. He's always going on about how the government keeps coming up with things to distract us from what they're _really_ doing but I think he's just criticizing everything they do. _It's all a big cover-up, they never tell us the truth!_ Everyone in our little town works really hard to keep our community going and all he can do is find fault. And now he thinks he can just walk up with some admittedly rather charming flowers and apologise and pretend like nothing happened?"

My grip on the steering wheel tightened as my stomach twisted. "This Steve, is he...?"

Cecil sighed heavily, "My ex, yes. I know - _what was I thinking?_ , right? But he used to be a nice guy, really smart, thoughtful...then he got all these stupid ideas in his head and I tried talking some sense into him but he just wouldn't listen. But we're meant to be on a date! You don't want to hear me whining about my ex!"

I stopped the car, sharply enough to startle Cecil. I unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled him into my arms. There were cameras in the car but I realised now it didn't matter; They'd already worked me out. They knew. I spoke softly in Cecil's ear. "I love you."

He pulled back to look at my face. I thought he was smiling but as he screwed his eyes shut I realised he was crying. I held him tightly.

"I don't know why I'm crying," he sniffed. "I'm happy, I'm really, really happy. I love you too. I've loved you since the day you arrived here."

"I know," I murmured. I closed my eyes as tears seeped from them. Unlike Cecil, I knew why I was crying. The rival was not for my affection, but his. I'd thought that what he felt for me was real but now I couldn't be sure. Maybe he was not the subject of this experiment, maybe I was. "There's something you should know about Night Vale."

"What?" Cecil wiped at his eyes, visibly trying to pull himself together. He was so confused, so conflicted, and he did not even understand why. I stroked the side of his face.

"I'm going to save the town. Whatever it takes."


End file.
